by Tate James
I nodded, trying super hard not to picture him in the shower. All soaped-up and wet...
“Sure you don’t want to join me?” he teased with a cheeky grin, and I almost wavered. Almost. But I needed to know what I was getting into before we went breaking rules. Because holy shit, it was so going to happen.
“Go,” I sighed. “I’ll chill here.”
Boden nodded and headed into the bathroom, leaving me alone in the drab brown room. Who the fuck even designed this motel? It looked like someone’s grandma’s house, mixed with a homeless shelter.
I was exhausted myself. After Candy Jack got wrecked, I’d run for my damn life, the guys had shifted into magical giant cats, the safe house had been set on fire, then I’d had to ride Raze without any pants on... It was no fucking wonder we were all dead on our feet. I never could sleep properly in cars, so I’d only been napping on and off during the drive.
Boden had left the bathroom door open just a crack, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself from ogling him in the mirror as he stripped.
Fucking hell, my guardians are stunning.
“Hey.” Hunter came through the front door, startling the shit out of me, and I squeaked a seriously attractive sound of shock. “Boden showering?”
I nodded, wordless. Had he just caught me perving on his friend through the crack in the door?
The grin on Hunter’s face said yes.
Whoops!
“So, what’s going on, Cleo-babe? You’ve been avoiding me ever since the safe house. What gives? Was I coming on too strong? If so, just tell me. I can totally back off. Or I mean, I can try. It’s not easy around you because you’re so...” He trailed off with a helpless shrug, and I scowled.
“So what? Magical? Naïve? Slutty?” I planned to stand up and confront him properly with my hands on my hips and shit, but I was really freaking tired, so I settled for scooting up the bed and resting against the headboard. My knees pulled up and I hugged my arms around my truck-stop sweat pants, but my glare... oh boy. My glare was fierce.
Hunter frowned and shook his head. “What? No, I was going to say sexy. Maybe intoxicating or just downright incredible. You’re irresistible, Cleo-babe.” He gave me a lopsided grin that damn near melted my resolve—or my panties. But I caught myself before I cracked.
“No, Hunter. You’re the irresistible one.” The way I said it left no mistake that I was not complimenting him.
With a confused frown, he sat on the edge of the bed near me and reached out to take my hand. When I snatched it out of his reach, his shoulders slumped and a pained look of resignation crossed his face. “Ah, I see.”
“Do you?” I snapped back. Because, like, I wasn’t totally sure I did. Maybe he could explain me to me.
He nodded slowly. “You think I’ve been manipulating you.”
I watched him warily. “Haven’t you? I saw what you did to that girl at the truck stop. She was like a lovestruck teenager meeting her boy-band crush. We could have set off a bomb in the middle of the store, and she wouldn’t have noticed, she was so busy batting her eyelashes at you.” I spat the words with a little more venom than I had really intended, and Hunter raised his brows at me.
“Wait. Are you pissed because you think I’ve been using my ability on you? Or because I was flirting with that cashier chick?” He squinted at me, and I squirmed.
“The, uh, the first one.” Not even I would have believed me. Damn jealous streak was the width of the Nile.
His gaze sharpened. “Are you sure? You’re aware I was doing that because we were all practically naked and had no money to buy clothes, right? Like... I wasn’t trying to get a blow job in the back room or anything.”
I gaped at him. “I wasn’t aware that was a possibility!”
Hunter sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Cleo-babe, I’m so confused what we’re even arguing about here. You’re clearly upset at me. Why don’t you just... tell me why?”
Uh, maybe because I don’t really understand it myself, asshole?
But I wasn’t admitting that, so I went with the tried and tested, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to nap now.”
I tried to scoot down the bed and turn my back on him, but he reached out and placed his hand on my hip. He was probably just trying to stop me from rolling over like a petulant teenager, but I ended up flinching away from his touch so badly that we couldn’t actually pretend it hadn’t happened.
“So it is my ability that you’re pissed about,” he groaned. “Babe—”
“No!” Whatever lame-ass excuse he was about to give me wasn’t gonna fly. Not with Cleo Carroll. Nah-ah. No sir. “I have every right to be pissed, Hunter. I find out that you have an ‘ability’ that essentially drugs chicks and makes them want to fuck you, but this wasn’t something you thought worth mentioning? How many times have you used it on me? Huh? Every time we’ve touched? Oh my cats, I feel so violated.”
I’d scooted farther away from him on the bed, but it wasn’t exactly a California king size, so there wasn’t that far to go.
“Do you really?” he asked me, sounding hurt. “You feel violated?”
His tone of voice gave me pause, and I considered what I’d just said. Truthfully... no. But that would totally blow my argument out of the water if I just went ahead and said that, so instead I went with... “Maybe.”
His pretty, golden-brown gaze dropped, and his shoulders slumped.
Shit. I’m an asshole.
“Hunter, I just meant—”
“No, I get it. You meant that if I hadn’t let my ability bleed over when we touched, then you never would have been interested in me. It was only because of my inherent powers that we ever hooked up. Probably good that you stopped it before we went too far last night; this whole guardian thing could have gotten really awkward otherwise.”
He got up off the bed and made to leave the room, and suddenly I felt like the biggest shithead in the entire freaking world. Hadn’t he said to me that first night in the bar that chicks were always going for Raze over him? That he didn’t think he had a chance at all until I specifically said I was attracted to him? That was way before he’d used that magical mojo on me.
Woman up, Cleo. For the love of cats, you wanted to bang him even when you thought he was a serial killer.
“Hunter, wait,” I jumped up and grabbed the sleeve of his truck-stop hoodie before he made it to the door. “I didn’t mean that; I was just...” I sucked in a hella deep breath and pulled up my imaginary big-girl panties. “I was just super jealous of that chick rubbing up all over you. I’m sorry; will you explain it to me? I want to understand.”
My hand had snaked up to my amulet, and I was rubbing it between my forefinger and thumb—a clear sign that I was anxious as all hell. But I had big enough ovaries to admit when I was being a petty bitch, and this was definitely one of those times.
Hunter gave me a skeptical side-eye. “You want to understand?”
I nodded. “Yes, please. In case you forgot, I kinda thought this whole magical beings thing was just an elaborate metaphor two nights ago.”
He hesitated, frowning. “Are you sure? Because I’m not throwing a tantrum; I seriously get it if you’re feeling violated. I never intended to use that ability on you, but it’s a part of who I am and I know it’s leaked out a couple of times... It’s bad form on my part, and I can’t apologize enough, Cleo-babe.”
Hunter looked genuinely embarrassed and ashamed, and I felt like an even bigger asshole. “I’m sure. Please? I swear I don’t feel violated.” I paused, letting a smirk creep over my lips. “Like... not yet anyway. There’s always time to change that.”
I intended it to be playful and flirty, but Hunter’s frown just deepened. “Cleo... I don’t think you appreciate how important consent is to me. Yes, I occasionally use my ability to get us out of trouble, like at the truck stop, but I would never intentionally use it to sleep with chicks. That’s rapey and gross.”
Grabbing his hand, I tugged him away
from the door and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Start over? Please? Hey, how come it didn’t happen just now?” I held up our hands, which were quite definitely touching, but my head wasn’t going all trippy and the rest of the world wasn’t melting away.
Hunter heaved a sigh and peeled his fingers away from mine, creating a noticeable gap between us as he ran that same hand over his head. Now that I’d seen his shifter form, I could see those darker streaks in his hair, matching his pelt as a Tasmanian tiger.
“It doesn’t happen all the time; I told you I really do try to turn it off around you. It’s just not very easy when I get... uh...” A small blush stained his cheeks, and he suddenly found the pattern on the bedspread super fascinating.
I bit back a smile. “Happy? Boden mentioned something about that.”
Hunter gave me a sharp look, then let a small smile though. “Yeah. Happy. Anyway, it didn’t happen just then because you touched me, not the other way around. If you initiate the contact, then it’s sort of”—he shrugged—“unnecessary? I guess? I don’t know; I’ve kind of needed to figure it all out by trial and error. There wasn’t exactly a whole shifter reservation to support me like Raze had.”
I nodded my understanding. “Boden said your species was becoming extinct, and that’s why you have this talent?”
Hunter raised a brow. “Boden sure was chatty. But we’re not becoming extinct. We are. Or may as well be. As far as the Shifter Alliance can tell, I’m the last of my kind, and seeing as I’m also a guardian to the amulet bearer, I don’t exactly see myself running off to start a Tassie Tiger commune with seventy-five wives all knocked up at once to repopulate my species.”
My jaw dropped, and it took me a hot second to find some words. “Why not?” I blurted out.
“Uh,” he started, shifting on the bed until he was facing me a bit more. Then he gave me a quizzical head tilt. “Well, for starters, guardians historically don’t have the easiest time guarding the amulet bearer. You’ve seen what the last two days have been like... Could you imagine worrying about kids on top of all this?”
I grimaced, instantly washed with guilt and general shittiness as I thought about Raze’s kids and wife. “I need to find a way to release Raze from this arrangement. You too, if you want to shack up with seventy-five wives?”
Hunter snickered. “Uh, no thanks. I’m good right where I am.”
I shook my head. “You’re telling me you don’t want to live with seventy-five pregnant, hormonal shifter women? I’m shocked.” I had no idea if shifters were more hormonal than normal women, but it was a fair guess, right?
Judging by the dramatic shudder Hunter gave, I was probably right.
“Nope, not the life for me. I’ll do my part by giving all the DNA samples they could possibly store, but that’s it. Anyway, that’s about all I know.” He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry it’s not much.”
I reached out and took his hand in mine, proving I wasn’t actually afraid to touch him. “I’m sorry for being a little bitch. I was mostly jealous, and then I was hurt thinking you’d been working magic juju on me.”
Hunter nodded, understanding. “Well, think about it like this. I’m pretty sure the first time I used it—accidentally, I might add—was in the bar when we were already decently drunk. Were you attracted to me before then?”
Easy question. “Fucking cats, yes. Are you kidding? You’re...” I waved a hand at all of him, pointing out his strong, surfer physique, his model face, his goddamn perfectly cheeky smile. Ugh. Fucking Hunter was too sexy for words. “Yes.”
A small, smug smile crept over his lush lips. “Okay, so... I guess until you’re sure I’m not working magical juju on you, you’ll have to initiate any contact between us.”
My brows shot up, and my insides did a happy dance. “Did you just ask me to make a move on you?”
Hunter just gave me one of those “if you wanted to, then I’d be down for that” kind of faces, and my eyes darted to the bathroom door... which stood open. Steam wafted out, but there was no one inside.
“What the—? Where did—?”
“He snuck out about five minutes ago,” Hunter informed me. “Super quiet, like a cat.”
I groaned at his terrible joke—because cheesy jokes were my job—but shifted closer to him nonetheless. Tentatively, I raised my hand, the one that wasn’t gripping his, placed it on his chest, and pushed him back into the pillows.
Chapter Ten
Considering everything I’d learned in the past few days—you know, that magic was a legit thing and not just a figment of authors’ imaginations—it was probably a supremely terrible idea to sleep with Hunter.
But, like, since when did I make good choices? I had hot pink hair and throat tattoos, for fuck’s sake.
“Wait.” I paused right before my lips met Hunter’s, and he made a little sound of protest. “Didn’t you say we could get in a bucketload of trouble if we fucked?”
“Not we,” he corrected, “just me. And a bucketload is totally subjective, so it’s a risk I’m willing to run.” His smile was pure mischief, and his golden brown eyes danced in challenge.
Jesus Christ Supercats, I could never resist a challenge.
I closed the distance between us, sealing my lips to his and kissing him a little bit more eagerly than anyone would consider smooth, but fuck me. Show me a woman who wouldn’t be all over Hunter like a cat on chicken, and I’ll eat my shoe.
“Wait.” This time it was Hunter stopping us, and I gave him a seriously look. “I just wanted to double-check, you’re initiating this, so it’s all free will and has nothing to do with my ability. Right?”
I nodded frantically, and he sighed with relief.
“Okay. Good. In that case, proceed.”
I wanted to laugh at his cautiousness, but when I thought about it, it made sense. When his inherent shifter ability essentially let him date rape chicks—not that Hunter would ever do that—it must be something he was constantly worried about.
Guess I would need to set his mind at ease.
“Hunter,” I whispered, peppering his lips with little kisses. “My long lost Hemsworth brother. I have wanted to initiate this from the moment you knocked on my window.” I kissed him deeper, running my hands down the front of his sexy, truck-stop branded T-shirt and pushing it up to yank over his head.
“No you didn’t,” he accused me as he tossed the shirt aside and repaid the favor—leaving me with my tits out. Crazy thing how truck stops didn’t sell lingerie. “Fuck yes,” he groaned, cupping one in each palm and—I think—really appreciating the moderate but not little volume I was packing. Fucking Raze.
“What?” I replied, just clicking with what he’d said. I think my slow brain power was understandable given the fact that he had his shirt off, and ho-ly cats. Hunter was just... drool-worthy. “Yes, I did. I almost came the first time you spoke with that deliciously exotic accent.”
Hunter chuckled, kissing me again and rolling my hard nipples between his fingers. Oh my claws. Damn that was good.
“You thought I was a serial killer when I knocked on your window. Hell, you still thought I was a serial killer after our crazy night on the booze. Remember?” He was teasing, not actually upset that I’d thought he was an Australian Ted Bundy.
Still.
“Well, I mean, yeah.” It was true. I had thought that. “Doesn’t mean I also didn’t want to fuck you before you murdered me and buried me in a forest somewhere.”
We both paused then, hearing that statement out loud.
“That’s a bit messed up, babe,” Hunter whispered, a bemused smile on his face.
I licked my lips. “Yeah, um, that sounded less creepy in my head. Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”
Hunter leaned forward, kissing me hard before grinning. “Fine by me.”
“Let’s get back to, um, you know...” Oh for the love of cats, Cleo. Shut up!
Maybe my mouth n
eeded something better to do. Yep, that seemed like a good plan.
Shuffling back a bit, I tugged Hunter’s truck-stop sweats down and palmed his huge erection. Wow. Yeah, that would shut me up for a bit.
Licking my lips in both anticipation and lubrication, I wiggled my ass farther down the bed until I was in a good position to suck some pretty awesome cock. My hand-to-hand combat skills might be a little lacking, I would admit, but my blow job skills? Please. Don’t even go there. I was practically Jenna Jameson. Or a Hoover.
Hunter let out a low groan and leaned back on the crappy, flat, motel pillows as I took him in my mouth and went to town.
Eager to cover up that super creepy comment I’d just made, I let my very best skills out of the bag. Sucking, twisting, licking, even the occasional scrape of teeth—just lightly, mind. But it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before Hunter hissed, moaned, and hauled me back up to kiss my lips.
“Hey,” he protested, his hands at the waistband of my sweatpants. “How are you still in pants? This needs to be rectified immediately, Cleo-babe.”
A couple of seriously acrobatic moves later, my pants were halfway across the room. Shit yeah. “Wait,” I paused as I straddled Hunter, just seconds away from inserting tab A into slot B. “Uh, this is always an awkward convo at this point, but... I don’t suppose you have a condom? I mean, I have an IUD, but no offense, we only just met and, uh...” I trailed off before I could dig myself into a more awkward hole.
Hunter arched a brow at me. “And I look like I get around a bit? Harsh, babe.”
I shrugged. He was really, stupidly attractive. There was no way he was a virgin. What if he had herpes or something?
“Shifters can’t catch diseases, but if it makes you more comfortable, then I can go and buy a condom. There was a vending machine near the ice-maker, I think.” He made to shuffle out from under me, and I halted him with a hand on his chest.
“Wait.” I squinted at him. “If you can’t catch diseases and I can’t catch pregnancy, then let’s not fuck around.” I paused. “Or, I mean, let’s do fuck, but not fuck around. Are you following?” I was confusing myself.